


Toss a Kiss to Your Witcher

by Eggsyobsessed



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, First Kiss, Fluff, Jaskier takes care of geralt, Just Soft and Quiet, M/M, Somewhere Between S1.E2-E3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23562673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggsyobsessed/pseuds/Eggsyobsessed
Summary: 'Toss a Coin to Your Witcher' or as the song goes. Geralt has grown annoyingly familiar with the lyrics. So when Jaskier decides to change them up, for Geralt's benefit, he can't help but wonder why.Apparently Jaskier thinks Witcher's need kisses...especially his Witcher.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 191





	Toss a Kiss to Your Witcher

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anarchycox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/gifts).



> *Waves Hello!*
> 
> Hiya!! 
> 
> This is my first fic in the Witcher fandom, woo! I finished the show two nights ago, and loved it! I had gotten this idea a week or so ago, because one of my friends is now in this fandom, and I couldn't unsee it. So I woke up this morning and wrote it. It is based on the Netflix show, not following canon completely, but it sorta - in my head - takes place between the end of episode 2 and episode 3. 
> 
> Just Geralt and Jaskier at a stop on their journey monster hunting. 
> 
> It is short, sweet and completely soft. And I hope you all enjoy this!!
> 
> \---
> 
> I am gifting this to my dear friend, Anarchycox, who by every right got me into the show and lured me into the fandom.  
> Thank you!  
> I do hope you enjoy this little bit of fluff <3

“Come now. Surely that...goo-” Jaskier made a face that was, well, Jaskier. A mix between disgust and intrigue in regard to the black slime that dripped off of Geralt, his hair and armor. “-off of you.” His hands flailed about, gesturing to the whole of Geralt.

“Hmm.” Geralt wasn’t particularly fond of the landlord of their current sleeping establishment. He had given Geralt a look that didn't sit well with him, but then again most people stared at him in such a way, some even went as far as to deny him a room; denied his coin, no mater how much he offered.

But he hadn't, and it was dry, a roof over their heads and the food was decent. Far better than their last stop where the woman thought stew consisted of water, barely passed for broth let alone a gravy, root vegetables and meat. He wasn’t sure if it was beef...lamb or what have you, and that said a lot - or very little of the cooking - since his palate had grown pretty distinctive of certain flavors over the years.

Jaskier zipped around the space, fetching assorted cloths and bottles Geralt wasn’t really paying a mind to. He just focused on the black monster guts in hair, trying with a damp cloth to swipe it out. Of course it was embedded into his silver strands, not like he’d had a proper bath in over a fortnight; it might have been two if he were being honest with himself.

The stench didn’t overly bother him. He was used to worse and had certainly lived with such for longer than a couple hours.

“Off with these.” Jaskier laid a tentative hand against his armored chest. Clearly more cautious of the mess on him, rather than actually touching him. “They need a good scrubbing! As do you!” He was, as usual, cheery and all too willing to strip Geralt to the skin.

“I am fine.” He was. Geralt didn’t need Jaskier. He could bathe himself. “I am sure the water isn’t even…” He trailed off as fingertips touched hot water. It felt good.

“You were saying?” Jaskied asked in that annoyingly sing-song voice he had when he was right.

“How did you manage this?” Geralt ignored the ‘yes I’ve provided for my Witcher, I am not a useless companion’ look Jaskier paraded on his face while he tossed bath salts, and a few liquids that smelled like vanilla and roses into the steaming water.

Jaskier hummed a tune as he worked, easily recognizable as ‘Toss a Coin to Your Witcher’ one Geralt had desperately tried to get the bard to shut up about. But when did Jaskier shut up about a fucking thing? He didn’t. Sometimes he wondered why he kept the man around, but supposed he was better company than others who tried to follow him on his journeys.

Roach seemed to fancy him, and if only for the carrots Jaskier carried in his pockets.

“Well?” Jaskier stopped in front of him, expectation thick in his blue eyes. “Strip Witcher!”

“Hmm.” Geralt watched him another beat, just to see the bard wither under his gaze, more troubled that he didn’t outright listen than anything else.

Eventually the steam, mixed with the lovely fragrance billowed from the bath, enticed him over the pout Jaskier had now reduced to, and slipped in. An unexpected moan passed his lips, as the damn near boiling water encompassed old scars, soothed his tired bones and warmed him from the tips of his toes to his shoulders as he eased in. It was a decent size and held him well. He only had to bend his knees a bit, not nearly as much as he usually did; the caps didn’t even emerge from the surface.

“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Geralt ignored him, far too relaxed to give a shit. He even let the bard pass a soaped up cloth across his shoulders, back of his neck and top of his chest. He’d learned, on their various stops, not to argue with Jaskier when it came to getting him clean. Last time he ended up in the tub with Geralt, fully clothed, because for all his strength, Geralt couldn’t get Jaskier to give up the cloth to wash himself.

At least he was permitted to clean his own dick.

Jaskier continued to hum ‘Toss a Coin to Your Witcher’ and with gentle fingers pulled the band from his hair, allowing it to fall around his shoulders in a less than delicate fashion. It weighed down from dirt, grime and monster guts...obviously, but that didn’t deter him. A mug of bath water was dumped over his head, soaking it thoroughly before those same fingers maneuvered through his strands, working in some sort of cool liquid that followed the water.

It was a similar scent to the salts and oils Jaskier had added to the water.

Between his full, satisfied stomach, and exhaustion that seeped into his blood, pumped through his veins, Geralt found himself drowsy after a few moments. He usually found time, had the energy to fight Jaskier off a little bit, but he had no desire to do so. That irritated him a little. It was their norm, not that it appeared Jaskier gave a shit. He seemed pretty damn content to wipe guts out of his hair, off of his face and arms.

Geralt almost dozed off, if it weren’t for the hand that wandered past tolerated territory. No doubt in search to clean his dick. Nope. He grabbed his wrist, eyes snapped open and shook his head.

“I wash my own dick.” Geralt snatched the cloth, and quickly cleaned his cock and balls. “You’re finished.” There was not a single area of skin that required further scrubbing. He soaked a bit longer, just because it was still nice and hot. Soon the water grew tepid - far too cool for his liking - and so he regretfully got out.

He loved baths, would live in one if he could.

There was no surprise when Jaskier waited with a towel and thankfully didn’t protest when Geralt dried himself, eyes scanned the room for something to wear. And, of course, there was no sign of the clothes he’d taken off. A little irritated, Geralt turned to Jaskier and sighed.

“Jaskier.”

“Yes, Geralt?” He had his arms folded behind him, a stupid grin on his face. “Problem?”

“Where is my armor?” Geralt didn’t have the patience for games tonight. He wanted to sleep, damnit!

“Oh, them! You mean the ones covered in retched monster guts?” Geralt gave a curt nod. “I sent them to be cleaned. Figured you’d want them all nice and shiny for our next adventure!”

“So I am to sleep nude?”

Jaskier snorted. “Like you haven’t ever done that before.” He huffed, like he had the right to be exasperated, and bounced forward to grab Geralt’s hand, pulling him toward the turned down bed. “Relax.” He shoved Geralt down by the shoulders. “I won’t fondle you in your sleep.” Geralt raised an incredulous brow. Jaskier lifted a hand in surrender. “I swear,” he vowed.

“Hmm.” Geralt complied, despite himself. He tried to refrain from a relieved sigh, but it just sort of escaped as he settled against the sheets.

“Toss a kiss to your Witcher,” Jaskier crooned.

The change in lyrics caused Geralt to pop up, watching Jaskier who continued to smooth the covers over him.

“Jaskier.” He grabbed the bard’s wrist, forcing him to meet his gaze. There was a question in them, because by every right this wasn’t out of their norm. Not when he’d gone days, perhaps weeks without a proper bed; Jaskier always made sure this was special. “What are you singing?”

Jaskier smiled, a wide and sly thing. “Toss a kiss to your Witcher!”

Geralt nodded slowly; he had heard that. “Yes. But it is toss a coin...are you sure it was me the monster hit over the head?” Suddenly he worried for Jaskier’s mental state. The bard never got the lyrics to his songs wrong, not even when he was in a drunken stooper.

“I know what it is! I did write the song, Geralt.” Jaskier tisked him, a hand pressed to his chest and forced him to lie again. “But this is a new rendition, do you like it?”

He watched him then, confused above all else, because what would provoke the change.

“Why toss a kiss?” Geralt asked after a bit. “I cannot do much with a kiss.”

Jaskier gave him a look, it was sad, almost pitying but not quite. “Because sometimes the Witcher needs a kiss.”

That hit him hard. No one had ever thought to say such things, no one had ever given a damn about whether he needed a kiss or not. Or perhaps something more than a bag of coin tossed at him, not so much as a thank you. Well, no one except Jaskier.

Something warm grew in his stomach, almost tingled, as he watched Jaskier blow out the candles around the room. Before Jaskier got himself settled, Geralt propped himself on an elbow and said, “Jaskier.”

“Yes?” He answered almost immediately. 

Geralt held a hand out, took Jaskier’s in his when he came forward, and before he lost his nerve, asked, “Would you toss a kiss to your Witcher?”

Without a word spoken, Jaskier leaned down until their lips brushed in what was probably the softest kiss Geralt had ever had. He returned the tender affection in kind, all of a sudden he wished it’d last a little longer, but too soon Jaskier lifted away, an unspoken promise as he gazed down at Geralt.

“I would." Jaskier assured, and finished getting ready for bed. He slid in beside Geralt, never close enough to touch, but not too far away that he couldn't feel Jaskier's warmth. A gentle hand crept out, laying on Geralt's chest, and caressed over his heart as he softly sang, "Toss a Kiss to Your Witcher." Until they fell asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr! I am @stronglyobsessed there!  
> Thank you for reading <3


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